Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way
by the morrighan
Summary: Detective John Sheppard faces hurdle after hurdle to catch the Wraith before it kills again.
1. Chapter 1

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way

_Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements._

The whir of the rotor blades spun the air, engulfing the already hot day in an even hotter rush. The helicopter circled, circled, like a bee buzzing, deciding upon which flower to land. The vehicle was a dark blot against the brownish sky, a black machine generating more noise and more power than anything beneath it for miles.

A jangle of voices roused Moira O'Meara from her work. She stopped, setting down a prehistoric skull. She stepped out of the tent. Shielded her eyes as the glare of the sun was striking the helicopter and making it appear as if it was glowing. People were scrambling out of the way, pointing and shouting, trying to pin down tent flaps and cover excavated areas with large tarps.

"Who is it?" asked an African-American man, moving to stand beside her.

"Doctor Peterson, at last! You can do the honors and greet him while I get the specimens ready!"

"Thanks a lot!" the man moaned. They exchanged a smile.

Moira ducked back inside the tent, as the after wash of the blades struck her. The helicopter had finally found a safe place to land. She was both relieved and annoyed that the director of the excavation had decided to finally check on their progress. She arranged what few fossils they had uncovered on a table, as the sandstorms had been delaying work for days now. Looked to end the entire expedition before it had even begun properly. The waste of time and manpower and resources would not look good to the museum committee back home.

Moira carefully stabilized the table with a few big rocks. The more delicate bones were packed in Styrofoam and plastic, the hardier ones were encircled with plaster and bubble wrap. She had immersed herself in the work, in the science, but her mind was still focused on John. Try as she might she couldn't stop thinking about him, worrying about him. She couldn't stop missing him.

She felt the rush of the wind, of the heat as the tent flaps opened. "Doctor Peterson," she began without preamble, arranging a skull on the table, "we made some intriguing discoveries before the sandstorms hit and delayed our progress." She turned. "I think you find the entelodont especially interesting as it is…" Moira froze. Voice gone.

The last person she had expected to see was John Sheppard. A detective from Vegas. Yet there he was, standing at the tent flaps. Appearing dashing in an olive green flight suit and jacket, aviator shades reflecting her astonished expression back to her. A trace of stubble lined his handsome face as he smiled. Removed the shades to reveal his incredibly green eyes. "John…" she finally said. Nothing else came. Her mind was a complete blank.

John Sheppard was taking in her appearance. She was dirty, dusty. A khaki shirt was unbuttoned over a tan tank top. Khaki pants hugged her hips. Boots were covered in sand. Her long hair was trapped in a messy ponytail. There was a look of utter shock on her face. There was a fading bruise under one brown eye, a purplish smear that made him wonder, made a surge of concern fill him. "Speechless? Wow…this must be first, O'Meara! I'll have to write this down."

"I...I…you, you…John? John!" Abruptly she rushed to him, and John braced himself, not certain if she was going to hit him or hug him. She did the latter, almost knocking him over as she flung herself into his arms.

He smiled, returned the hug. Losing himself for a moment in the remembered feel of her body pressed to his. The scents of vanilla and flowers clinging to her even out here, in the middle of nowhere. "Moira," he said quietly, about to say more, about to catch her mouth with his when she pulled back from him.

"John? How?"

"Helicopter. I'm a pilot, you know."

"Why?"

"Does it fucking matter, baby?" he retorted, pulling her to him again but she resisted.

"Yes."

He ignored her. Pulled her to him and kissed her. Kept kissing her, reacquainting himself with the feel of her mouth, the taste of her lips. The feel of her body as he guided her, guided her backwards, pressing forwards onto her, into her. Each kiss was eagerly returned until Moira yelped as he grabbed her rear and squeezed tightly. He lifted her onto the table. The fossils clattered, clattered as the table shook.

"John!" She pushed free, catching her breath. "You came all this way for sex?"

He laughed. "No! Well, now that you mention it, Moria, yeah."

"John! You can't just—"

"I need you. I need help on a case. You know what kind."

"You could have emailed me or used the sat-link to—"

"Tried. Everything's down because of the storms. I don't have any more time to waste."

"There are plenty of biologists you could have—"

"No. They're not you, Moira. I can't bring anyone else into the fold."

She stared. Shoved him backwards to get off the table. Flustered. Upset. He sounded so detached, so impersonal, but his kisses had been anything but. "So like a good shepherd you came here to retrieve your lost lamb?"

"Yes. That's it exactly, Moira. Now get that pert little ass in gear and let's go!" He headed for the tent flaps, assuming she would follow.

Moira glared at him. "What did you need?"

He stopped. Returned to her. "I just told you, I—"

"No. You can't just march in here and take me out of my job like so much baggage! I'm not on your team, remember? Tell me what you need and then you can go. Well?" She crossed her arms under her breasts, waiting. Distancing herself from him, from the swell of emotion.

John scowled. Inadvertently making himself more irresistible, even sexier. "Fine. I need to know several things. Firstly, they tell me that the prisoner Wraith is in hibernation and can't be woken up without killing him. I need to know if this is true or not. Secondly, I need to know how to track a possibly insane Wraith that is currently killing people in Vegas. I need to know how it thinks, what it wants, and I can cover the human aspect but I need you to cover the bug one, that hive mind thing, you know? Oh, and thirdly if Todd, that's the prisoner they have, can possibly communicate with the insane one while hibernating? Well?"

Moira considered as he stood, waiting. Stance impatient, fidgeting as he stared at her. "Okay, detective. Normally you couldn't wake up a hibernating animal without serious consequences, but since half of this animal is human you should be able to do so. The hibernation is self-induced?"

"Yes."

"Then you need to have him awaken himself. That would be the safest course."

"And how the hell would I do that?"

"Give him what he wants most. Dangle what he wants right in front of him and I guarantee you he will awaken on his own and try to take it. And yes, given what very little I know about these creatures he could very possibly be communicating with others of his kind, even while in a hibernation cycle."

"And the insane one?"

"I can't help you track it, John, but from a bug perspective being violently separated from the Hive mind will force it to try to act on its own. Unless it is being given direction from the imprisoned one. It will try to get to that one, to another of its own kind, but if it suffering from extensive injuries or mental unbalance its course might be erratic and highly unpredictable. You will need to lure it out somewhere if you can figure out where it is heading. If it can sense another of its kind it may be able to sense its own technology too. Use bait."

John nodded. "Thank you, doctor. Fuck I need you back with the team. But you made your feelings every clear on that, didn't you? Thanks, Moira."

Moira stared as he left. Simply walked out of the tent. As if he just driven down the road to see her, get her advice, and then was gone.

Stunned she could only stare after him.


	2. Chapter 2

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way2

Moira hadn't moved. She knew she should run after him, yell at him, scream at him, but she just stood there, stunned. Stomach clenching. Tears burning behind her eyes. She bit her lower lip as emotions threatened to spill, to overwhelm. She clasped her hands together in front of her, took a step forward but froze as the tent flaps were flung aside. Hot air washed over her, and it was with equal relief and anger as she watched John return.

John stomped to her, which was hard to do on the sands in boots but he somehow managed to do it very well. "I didn't come all this way to have you throw unsubstantiated theories and best guesses at me!"

She blinked. "Then why come at all, John? You could have gotten all of that and more from any qualified biologist in Vegas! You didn't have to traipse halfway around the world for this!"

"I didn't come all this way for just this!"

"Then for what, John? What?" She was shouting in response to his raised voice. The wind was whipping around the tent, the flaps snapping noisily but their voices overrode all of that.

"You," he said quietly. Almost so quietly she didn't hear him.

She stared a moment. "No. You…you don't love me, John."

"You're right. I don't," he agreed.

Moira felt a wave of tears. She turned away from him as her heart pounded, pounded. "Then, then why?" Her voice was a whisper on the wind, strangled by emotion.

He moved to stand directly behind her. Turned her to him. Guided her to sit in a camp chair. He sat in the one opposite her, so close their knees knocked. He took her hands into his, after a quick glance at her gaze, at the anguish that matched his own. "I can't." She was silent, waiting. Tensing as he licked his lips. Nervous. He eyed their hands. "I want you. I, I need you. There's no way I'm ever gonna love you. I can't give you I'm something I'm not, no matter how I try, I'll never be able to give you something I just haven't got…I—"

"You're paraphrasing Meatloaf to me? _Two Outta Three Ain't Bad_?" she exclaimed, yanking her hands from his. "What is this? A joke to you, a game, a—"

"No! It's how I feel, Moira! I'm not good at this!"

"Obviously."

"Will you shut up and let me finish?" he snapped. Glare for glare. He took her hands into his again. "Look…after, after what I went through, after what you went through…losing someone close to you, causing their death…I can't do this again. And I know you feel the same. Why else run out here? I…I need you, Moira. I want you. I need you in my life. Okay? I hate waking up and you're not there next to me…or just a phone call away from me. I…look, we've both been through hell and come out the other side, somehow. So no, I don't love you. I can't. And you don't love me. Whatever we have here, now, between us…it's, it's…I can't put a name to it. I can't. I won't. Nor will you. But we can't let go of it either. Okay?"

Moira felt tears, stunned. At first hurt by his dismissal, his seeming mockery with quoting the song, but then moved by his more heartfelt, honest words. Words that came from his heart whether he would admit to it or not. Her fingers closed over his. All the sorrow, the yearning, the loneliness mirroring her own. "John…oh John…"

"It's not much, Moira, I know that. But it's all I have to offer. Besides, the problems of two little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world."

"You're quoting _Casablanca_ now?" she asked, but her tone was gentle.

He met her gaze. Saw the tears, the emotion. "Yes. Yes, I am, because it's apropos. We've got bigger problems in the form of a crazy Wraith on the loose in Vegas and not much time to find it before it kills again. So come back with me and help me, Moira. Okay?"

She had to smile. He was sincere, pouting. Green eyes boring into hers. His fingers entwined with hers, knee to knee as they sat, staring at each other. Naked emotion on his face. "Okay, John. Just don't say here's looking at you, kid."

He stood, pulling her up with him. Smiled. "I won't. Thank you."

She hugged him suddenly. Hiding her face against his chest. "Okay, John," she whispered, voice muffled. Holding onto him, as if she would never let go. As if in that moment the doubts had evaporated, the fears has dissolved. There was only John and that was all that mattered.

"Okay, Moira," he agreed, arms around her. Uncomfortable at expressing his feelings. She suppressed a sob. He gently moved her back to kiss her. To keep kissing her, tasting her tears, her sorrow, her need as great as his own, if not greater. The soft sounds trapped in her throat only arousing him. He pulled back to tenderly touch the bruise under her eye. "And this?"

"Accident. I did it myself. I was trying to extract a fossil when it suddenly popped loose. Luckily it didn't hit me in the eye. I am telling the truth, John, no one hit me."

"Oh." He ran his lips across it, delicate, soft kisses that made her murmur. Made her fingers glide along his chest. He caught her mouth again, kisses growing in passion once more, until she pulled back reluctantly.

"Where is Doctor Peterson?"

"Huh? Oh, I sort of, um, requisitioned his ride." He gave her a lop-sided smile. Shrugged.

"You what?" She pushed free of his arms. "Oh great, John, now he'll be pissed and we are already behind schedule and with these storms we will be facing a major budget crunch not to mention the—"

"Doesn't matter. Let's go, Moira. Sweetheart, let's go home."

John parked the car. Sat a moment, hands locked on the wheel. Surprised he hadn't fallen asleep while driving. They had been traveling nonstop for two days, from planes and trains to taxis to cars and John was so tired he could barely remember who he was, much less where he was going. He blearily blinked. Freed the wheel. Flexed his sore fingers. Looked over to see Moira asleep in the passenger seat, slumped over her carryall. He smiled. She appeared as dirty and exhausted and rumpled as he felt. "Moira." He nudged her. "Moira." He shook her gently. "Moira! We're home. I mean you're home," he swiftly corrected.

Moira woke, startled. Met his gaze. Smiled. "Oh." She stared at him a moment. Then saw her house. "Oh!" She unbuckled the seat belt, got out of the car. Dragging her carryall. She pulled her suitcase out of the back seat as John got out of the car, slinging his overnight bag over his shoulder. Wordlessly he took the suitcase, gestured. She grabbed the carryall and led him up to the house. She fumbled in her purse, finally produced the keys and unlocked the door.

John followed her into the house, shutting the door behind him. It was two in the morning and the neighborhood was swathed in darkness and silence. Much like the house in which they stood. After all of the noise and crowds the silence was soothing. He set down the suitcase, his overnight bag, suddenly uncertain. Moira set down the carryall. Turned to him and took his hand. Did not say a word as she led him through the house to the bedroom. John smiled, feeling the butterflies in his stomach dissolve. He wished he wasn't so damn tired. The lure of sex was strong, but his utter fatigue was stronger.

Moira freed his hand to sit on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and scooted up to the pillows. With a sigh she relaxed at last, thankful to be home. Thankful to be with John. She was worn out, dirty, disheveled but didn't have the energy to get up and get clean. She couldn't even remove her clothes, not caring how dirty they were. She only wanted this, to be on her own bed again, to be inside a house and away from the sand and dust of Mongolia.

To be back in Vegas with John, whether he loved her or not.

John followed her lead, removing his own shoes and stretching out next to her. He groaned as the bed's softness enfolded his weary limbs, his pounding head. Moira snuggled into him. His arm went round her. "Sleep…we need to sleep, John," she said tiredly. "Then we can sort this all out tomorrow, er, later this morning. Okay? And discuss the case and all of the alien aspects. I can't believe there's another one of those things running around Nevada. How many are there? John? We can talk about it all later, all right? First we need to sleep. John?"

He was already snoring.

Moira smiled. Scooted up to lightly kiss his cheek, then snuggled into him again. Content.


	3. Chapter 3

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way3

John woke. He was sprawled face downwards on a bed. He lifted his head, blearily blinked against the assault of lilac that hit his gaze. Lilac curtains filtered the sunlight streaming onto the lilac bed under him. Stiff muscles protested as he moved. He felt Moira snuggled up against his back, one arm draped over his waist. Fingers on his belt as if she had been planning a seduction but had fallen asleep before she could accomplish it.

Reluctantly he slipped free of her, sat. Grabbed his phone as it began to buzz. "Yeah?"

"Finally! Are you still on LOA, Sheppard?"

John grimaced at the irate voice of his boss. "No, captain. Just got back. Sorry. I was going to call in once I—"

"Save it! Lucky for you we haven't had another homicide, but unlucky for you there have been no breaks in the case and that perp is still out there! I need your ass back here, Sheppard, to find this perp before he kills again! I swear if you pull this kind of shit in the middle of an investigation I will take that badge of yours and—"

"Noted, captain. Sorry, but it did pertain to the case. An expert I needed to see." He glanced over as Moira stirred, hearing his voice. Made a soft, soft sound and nestled against his hip. Hand sliding along his waist to rest along him. "I'll be in shortly, sir."

"Okay. This expert of yours…will she help you solve the case?"

John cursed to himself. "Yes, sir, she will. I'm sure of it." He ended the call. Placed the phone on the bedside table and settled onto his back again. Drawing Moira closer to him as he closed his eyes. Needing just a few more minutes of peace before he faced his irate boss. Before he had to get back to solving the case and catching a space alien.

A loud sound was boring into Moira's ear. She woke, irritated. Discovered it was John snoring, his face buried in her hair. She elbowed him, sat free as he snorted, shifting on the bed. "John!" She smiled, staring down at him. Disheveled, dirty, clothing rumpled even more than usual he was incredibly sexy. Hair sticking out in every direction. Darker stubble lining his jaw. She let her gaze wander over his long, lean form sprawled next to her. Reluctantly got off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

She brushed her teeth. Undressed. At a loss as to what to do. Of course she would help John with the case. Of course she would consider being on the team. The chance to learn about space aliens didn't come along every day. Men like John Sheppard didn't come along every day either. And she knew she should end this before her heart got broken. But she couldn't. Not yet. Not while the passion was still so vibrant between them. Not while he still wanted her, needed her.

Not while she was head over heels in love with him even if he didn't love her.

She turned on the water, made it hot, hotter. Stepped into it, drowning her feelings, her weariness, her worry. Getting clean and trying to clear her mind of all thoughts, all emotions.

Trying to get clear of John Sheppard.

John woke suddenly. Heard water running, running. A steady stream on tiles. On a naked body, he realized. A smile curved his lips. He got off the bed, followed the sound to the bathroom. Silently he entered. Stood, staring at the foggy silhouette of Moira as she showered. The pale curtain and rising steam obscured the details as she arched and shifted. He licked his lips, gaze narrowing to peer through the obstructions. She was arching her back, breasts jutting up and out as she rinsed her long, long hair.

His pants felt tight, so tight he softly moaned. He grabbed the curtain and yanked it aside. Gaze devouring her as she turned, startled. Brown eyes wide as she clutched the loofah to her breasts, then her crotch, not knowing what to cover first. Water streaming down her skin.

"John!" she scolded, but it was almost a squeak.

John smiled. A slow, lustful smile. He stepped into the shower, heedless of his clothes. The water pounded him as he grabbed her and kissed her. His clothes were rapidly being drenched, the dirt swirling into the drain as his hands slid all over her, then to her rear to grab, to squeeze.

Moira yelped, squirming, dropping the loofah but John gave her a wicked, wicked smile. Shoved her gently against the slick tiles. Freed her to undo his belt. To undo his pants. To unzip them. To yank them down along with his shorts, all the while his smoldering gaze locked with hers. Pinning her in place as effectively as his body was shortly to do.

She only hoped the old tiles would hold up to a very vigorous pounding.

John strolled into the precinct. He had showered properly at his place. Shaved. Put on clean clothes. Had left messages for Carson and Evan to meet him at Beckett's in an hour. Had left a terse note for Moira on the bed. Along with the underwear he wanted her to wear after a quick search of her dresser drawers. A push-up bra and thong, both the color of crimson and made of sheer, sheer lace. He smirked, recalling the quick but passionate sex. He had come quickly, sharply, but kept going until she had come as well. Then he had left her without a word. He knew she would be pissed. Was anticipating her anger. He wanted her again. Wanted more than the quickie, as hot as that had been.

Wanted everything from her, even the emotions, although he could never admit it.

He schooled his expression, moved to the captain's office. Paused a moment to smooth down his clean black jacket, his white shirt. Black slacks and shoes. He knocked on the open door, entered. "Sir?"

Hendricks eyed Sheppard, as if he could tell exactly what had detained him. "About time."

"I just need to grab some files and then I can get to work. I'm using some experts in various fields to try to locate this nut job before he strikes again."

"As long as you catch him, Sheppard, I don't care what you do. Just stay in town, all right?"

"Yes, I will." He moved to his office, wondering at the speculative looks he was getting from the other men. Not really caring as he sat at his desk, started to go through the files he would need. Mind going back to the case now, the insane Wraith on the loose. Recalling Moira's answers to his questions. Resolving to bring her onto the team whether she liked it or not.

"Who's the angry woman?"

John looked up to see Dean smirking in the doorway.

"No one."

"No one? She was ready to rip you a new one, Shep. Who is she? No…no way! Don't tell me you are actually seeing someone? I mean dating a real, regular woman now?"

John glared. "What is this, high school? Get out of my office!"

Dean laughed. "You should see your face! Wow…Shep's got a girl now!"

"Shut up! Don't you have a street to patrol?"

Dean laughed. "You owe me five bucks, Sayles! He is seeing someone and it is that angry woman!"

John swore as the man left. Now that he knew the reason for all the stares and speculation he was angry. He hated being under a microscope, and preferred to keep his private life private. The less anyone knew about him the better. He opened a file.

"Did you see this?"

John looked up to see Danville tossing a paper onto his desk. He took it, viewed the headline WILD DOGS DESTROYED IN COVER-UP. He scowled. "What the hell is this?"

"Animal Control found a pack of dogs out in the boonies and claimed they were the ones responsible for the vivisections. Destroyed them. It's a publicity stunt from the mayor's office to calm public fears. Apparently this Campbell guy doesn't buy it either."

"Of course not." John perused the article. "Shit. There's still a killer out there and he has to write all about it! Where is he getting all of this?"

"Beats me, Shep, but Hendricks is not pleased. It shouldn't be taking this long to catch a druggie, should it?"

"No, it shouldn't," John agreed absently. He was reading the article. Most of it was sensationalism, garbage and hyperbole about the killing of innocent animals, the hoodwinking of the public by the LVPD and the mayor's office, the warning of a killer on the loose and stalking innocent people. There was a reference to older cases, to the Vegas Vampire. More speculation, more hyperbole, but between the lines was a very real investigative reporter.

Chuck Campbell was beginning to connect the dots, and that wasn't a good thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way4

"Moira! It's good to see you, love!" Carson greeted with a smile.

"Moira! I heard you were back but I didn't believe it and you oh oh," Evan's smile was tempered when he saw her mood.

Moira had stomped into the bar, to the back booths where the men were sitting. Waiting for her. She recalled the note John had left. The two words scrawled on a scrap of paper sitting on some underwear he had chosen for her. Beckett's. One. She had taken the note and torn it into pieces, furious.

She ignored the greetings of her friends. Her gaze was locked on one man. John was lounging in the booth, across from the other two men. Almost sprawled on the seat with a lazy indifference. A smug smile curved his lips as he met her gaze. Taking in her lilac woven shirt, her blue jeans, her loose ponytail. He felt himself reacting, his pants tight as he saw her anger. He wondered if she was wearing the sexy lingerie he had selected for her.

"Moira," he drawled, voice low, husky. Possessive. He licked his lips slowly. Knew he was making her react to him. Could almost feel her tensing, her tightening. Her dampness.

Moira glared, making a beeline for him. Reaching him she soundly slapped him across the face, slapped that salacious smugness off his handsome mien. "You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch!"

"Ow," he mildly complained. Straightened as his cock jerked in sudden alertness. He rubbed his stinging cheek, his jaw. Smiled. "That good, huh?"

"What the hell was that?" she demanded. Becoming turned on despite herself.

"Do I really have to tell you? Are you sure you're a biologist?"

"Fuck you!"

"Again?"

"You…you…" She whirled, out of words. Strode out of the room.

"Moira? What was—" Evan began, shocked.

"Give us five. No, ten." John sprang to his feet to pursue her. "Moira! Moira!" He followed her down the hallway. Right into the women's bathroom.

She whirled. "John! You can't be in here!" He caught her. Kissed her. A slow, savoring kiss that made her melt into him. But she pushed, fighting it. Fighting him. "No! What the—"

"What? Too much? Damn it, Moira, you know arguing with you always gives me a hard-on!"

"We're not arguing!" But he held her firmly, keeping her close. "John! John, let go of me!" She hit his chest, his shoulders. "John, let go!"

"No. Are you wearing it?" He gently shoved her backwards until she hit the wall. "Are you? Fuck, baby, it was hot. Taking you like that, I mean. Ah. You want me to do it again, do you? Naughty little paleontologist!"

"John! No! Yes! No! You just left! You just left without a fucking word! Just a note to meet you here! Oh, that's right, I forgot! You don't love me!" She shoved free but he moved her back against the wall.

"Yeah, that's right, baby. We already had this conversation, didn't we? So what's the problem?"

"You…you…" she stammered, lost in his green eyes. The firm grasp of his hands on her arms, pinning her to the wall. He freed her to touch the buttons on her shirt. To open one by one until the shirt was open and he could see the crimson bra shoving her breasts up and together.

He smiled. Licked his lips. Traced a finger along the swells of her breasts. "Show me. If the panties match."

"John! You—"

"Show me," he instructed, voice low. Sending a shiver along her skin. Making her tighten, tense.

She bit her lower lip, seeing the challenge, the mischief, the lust in his eyes. Like a warmth washing over her. She undid her jeans. Unzipped them. Opened them, wiggled and let them drop to the floor.

John smiled, eying the matching crimson panties, so lacy, so sheer. He ran his fingers along her hips, her pelvis. He met her gaze and undid his pants. Unzipped them.

"John? John?" she asked, swallowed.

"Fuck you are killing me, Moira." He kissed her, drowning her protest, turning it to a more passionate exhalation of his name as he moved to his knees in front of her, his mouth sliding along her skin, down, down, down.

He only hoped the counter was wide enough for what he had in mind.

"What do you think they're doing? I better go check on—" Evan began, but Carson caught his arm. Stopping him.

"I wouldn't," the doctor advised. Trying not to smirk.

"Moira was pissed. What if retaliates? Did you see that bruise under her eye? What if he—"

"He didn't," Carson assured. "John would never hurt Moira, of that I am certain."

"Are you? How can you be certain?" Evan challenged.

Carson shook his head. "Isn't it obvious?"

"What?"

"He went all the way to Mongolia to get her back here."

"So? She was coming back anyway, sooner rather than later because of those storms. And he only went because he needs her help on this case. What if he did hit her?"

"He didn't. He never will hurt her, Evan. Sheppard may be a lot of things but he's not that kind of man. Moira is perfectly safe in his hands."

A woman touched the bathroom door, about to push it open and enter when a chorus of sounds hit her ears. Voices rising and falling. A woman's breathy whimpering, tone rising higher and higher and higher. A man's grunting and groaning in a strange cadence that came faster and faster, matching the odd banging noise on the far wall. The woman froze, recognizing the blatantly sexual sounds. Eyes going wide with realization.

Abruptly the woman cried out, a stuttering exhalation of a man's name over and over and over. The man's groans became guttural, elongated and then a frenzy of swear words hit the air. His voice was loud, echoing off the tiles of the bathroom as the woman moaned and sobbed and kept saying his name until the noises stopped suddenly.

Elizabeth Weir shook her head. Amused. Intrigued at the passionate activity. Impressed at the duration not to mention the exclamations. Apparently it had been very good for both of them. She stepped back suddenly as the door opened. A rather plain woman with a messy ponytail of brown hair stared, startled. She was flushed, brown eyes bright with love, with passion. Her lilac shirt was haphazardly buttoned.

"Excuse me," Moira stammered, stepping past the other woman to head down the hall. Abruptly she stopped. Flustered. Smoothing down her shirt, making sure her jeans were zipped and buttoned. Making sure her underwear was in place.

"John?"

Moira whirled, hearing the woman's recognition. John was stepping out of the bathroom. A smile on his handsome face. His white shirt was somewhat unbuttoned at his chest. His black jacket open. His black pants a little askew, the belt hastily fastened.

"Weir, right? With the big gun."

Elizabeth smiled. "I could say the same, couldn't I, Sheppard."

"Nah...not so big now." His gaze flew to Moira who was staring. "Excuse me." He stepped round Elizabeth and moved to Moira. "Move that pert little ass, baby. Unless you want me to take it next," he teased, voice low.

"Shut up! You, you know her?" Moira asked, looking past him but the other woman had entered the bathroom.

"Yeah, sort of. She's one of McKay's clean-up crew. Believe it or not she packs a P90 and knows how to use it." He smiled, stepping closer, closer, backing her up into the wall. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her flushed face. "Of course, so do I. Isn't that true, baby?"

"Shut up! If you would be a tad more considerate!"

"Hey, you're the one who keeps bringing it up."

She shoved past him, trying not to laugh. "Guess I better stop doing that before you trip over that thing!" John snorted, following her. "Lock it down, Sheppard!"

"It is, O'Meara, but if we start arguing again I may have to issue a warrant."

"No need, sweetie, I've already been served!"


	5. Chapter 5

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way5

John burst into laughter. He followed after Moira but nearly collided with her as she abruptly stopped upon reaching the booth.

Moira could feel the blush on her face as Evan and Carson were looking at her. Looking past her at John behind her. "Um, sorry, I had to…that is to say he had to…I mean…oh!"

John bumped into her rear deliberately. "And served repeatedly," he said low into her ear as he stepped past her. "One of McKay's people is here so he must be here somewhere too. We can go on this little field trip so you all can see the alien and get all of the information you need to help me catch this damn thing. Right now, though, I want to compare notes. Moira." He touched the small of her back, gently guiding her to the booth.

Moira took the seat opposite the men. Found herself being scooted to the wall as John sat next to her and proceeded to be as close as possible to her. His thigh touching hers. "Notes?"

"Oh, and just so you know," John drawled, eyes on Evan as he was staring at Moira, "we're dating." John touched Moira's hand on the table, as if solidifying his claim.

"Dating?" Evan questioned, still looking at Moira.

She had a neutral expression on her face. She would hardly call what had just happened dating. Would hardly call their relationship that. They'd only been on one actual date, sort of. Nevertheless she nodded. "Yes. Dating."

"Oh, and just so you know, there's no off-phase with me," John informed. There was a lightness in his tone but not in his eyes. An implied threat shone in that green, green gaze. A warning. His hand was still on hers, fingers subtly stroking.

Moira rolled her eyes, withdrew her hand from his. "That is certainly true, detective."

John met her gaze. Smiled. "Damn right." He became serious. Produced a pad. Flipped it open to peruse his jumbled notes. "Here's what we have. A possibly deranged, wounded, starving Wraith working his way towards Vegas. Towards significant population centers. He's gone dormant right now so we can't find him by conventional means. We have to know where he's going. And why. Most importantly we need to find him before anyone else is killed. Well? Ideas? Suggestions?" He waited, but no one seemed to be listening. "Hello?"

Carson had been eying the map spread on the table. Evan was eying Moira. Moira was gazing at John, a dreamy expression on her face as the echoes of the pleasure they had just shared thrummed along her body. His thigh was touching hers as he sat very close to her.

John met her gaze, saw the naked emotion on her face. "What?" he snapped.

She smiled. "Sorry. I…"

He smirked. Nudged her thigh with his. "Well?"

"The answer is obvious, John. In fact you already know it."

"Do I, now? Care to enlighten me, Moira?"

"You were right all along," she said, becoming serious. "We need to wake up the prisoner to see if he is communicating with the other one. Then we need to set a trap."

"We need to wake up Todd," John stated.

"Out of the question!" Rodney McKay declared, joining them. He eyed the group, then John. "It would kill him!"

"No. It wouldn't," John countered, confident with Moira's assertions to back him up.

"Yes, it would," Rodney argued. "If we awaken him in an abrupt manner the damage and shock to his system would be irreversible."

"That's probably true. So we don't awaken him," Moira said.

John frowned, glancing at her. "You just said we need to wake him up."

"I did, and we do, but not us."

"He supposed to awaken himself?" Carson asked, puzzled.

"Ah." John nodded. "What you suggested earlier. Right?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Entice him with something he wants."

"Food, obviously," John said.

"You do realize what his food is," Rodney cautioned.

"How else have you been keeping him alive?" John asked. He touched his chest briefly, but knew there had to be others. There had to be, and most of those probably weren't given what he had been given. He felt Moira's hand on his thigh, glanced at her.

The silence stretched and stretched. The uncomfortable affirmation needing no words. Rodney offered no explanations, no excuses. Weariness clung to him like a shroud.

"Good God," Carson muttered, appalled.

"What am I missing here?" Evan asked, looking at everyone.

"It's the only way to find this, this other Wraith, unless you want to wait until it kills again," Moira stated. Voice firm. Her fingers softly playing on John's thigh. Not a sexual touch but a comforting one.

"So far it's isolated, somewhere in this grid in the desert." John indicated the map with a forefinger. "But we suspect it's being directed by Todd, perhaps not all of the time and certainly not in a logical manner, at least not to us. And if our trajectory theory holds true then…" He slid his finger along the map. "It will come out of the desert around here. This is a residential area. Do you want the blood of children on your hands, Rodney?"

"No. No, of course not!" he declared. Staring at the map. He looked at Moira, then Carson. "Fine. We'll come up with a—"

"No. We need to see this Wraith prisoner. All of us," Moira countered. She glanced at Carson who was nodding. At Evan who still appeared puzzled. "If we're to work effectively we need to know everything."

John stood suddenly. "You heard her. We need to see this thing now, all of us. And we need to wake him up and formulate a proactive plan to catch the crazy one. Let's go. Moira will ride with me. You can take Carson and Evan in the van, along with Weir. Yeah, I saw her," he said to Rodney's surprise. "About time we all met each other, huh?"

Moira was silent until they had left the last environs of the city. They were driving down a winding road into the desert. John was staring ahead of him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, dutifully following the black van in front of his red car. Harsh sunlight shone off its windows, reflecting a glare that bounced onto the hood of John's car. The radio reception was sporadic. Bits and pieces of _Light My Fire_ burping through the speakers.

John adjusted his sunglasses to counter the wash of brightness threatening to blind him. He could feel Moira's steady gaze on him. Waited.

"John," she said at last, after the car jumped, hitting a pothole, "we need to talk about this."

"Why?" he asked. "You're going to see the alien prisoner. You all are. Isn't that what you wanted all along? You'll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement first. That won't be a problem, will it?"

"No. I mean, no, that's not what I meant. You know what I meant. Er, mean." At his silence she frowned. Seeing the hint of a smile on his lips she hit his arm. "John! The bathroom! What happened in the—"

"Oh. Yeah. "

"Oh, yeah? That's all you've got to say?"

"Yeah. You got what you wanted there too. So did I."

"John! We can't just—"

He met her gaze. "Don't start an argument, Moira! Or I'll have to pull over!" He smiled, eyed the road. The black van in front of them. "I wonder how they're getting along."

"John! Don't change the subject! We shouldn't have done that! I don't do things like that!"

"You do now, baby. You did. With me."

"John!"

"Moira, calm down or I swear I will have to pull off the road and tear those lacy red panties off that pert little ass! You know arguing with you gives me a fucking boner! Just relax, would ya? It was a quickie, baby, and there's nothing wrong with a quickie. Fucking sweet too."

She sighed. Hit his arm again and glared out the window. "Whatever," she muttered.

He smiled at her tone, her resignation. Tempted to pull off the road anyway but instead he followed the van into the vast, arid space of the desert.


	6. Chapter 6

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way6

The three men were silent. The black van was rolling smoothly along over the shoddy roads. The wheel firmly under control as Elizabeth directed the vehicle. The desert spread out to either side of them, miles of sand and dirt and scrub which melted into the brown horizon, into the brown mountains in the distance.

"Where the hell is this place?" Evan finally asked. It seemed like they had been traveling for hours. He glanced at Carson who shrugged.

"Not too far now," Rodney assured, turning in his seat to eye the two men behind him. "We had to move to a more secure location after recent events."

"Events like the murder of innocent people?"

"Yes, Mr. Lorne. John seems to think that your team will be able to prevent such tragedies in the future."

"We're not a team," Carson noted. "Moira said we'd be consultants. And I, for one, don't believe any of this hogwash." He sat back in the plush seat, arms folded across his chest.

"That's why we're going to see the space alien," Evan reminded. Amused at the doctor's obstinacy, despite what he had seen so far. The alien DNA samples. "I saw the ship. It was real enough, doc. Hey, Mr. McKay, do you have any other alien ships?"

"It's Doctor McKay, and yes. But I can't say more until we get to the base and you both sign the agreement. It's standard procedure. Isn't that right, Elizabeth?

Elizabeth had been listening to the conversation, amused. Tuned them out as she thought about John. What he had been doing in the bathroom with that plain woman. She was trying to picture him in several erotic scenarios when Rodney's question intruded. "Yes. You can't play with the toys until you sign the paperwork. All of the paperwork."

Her sigh made Carson frown, as she implied there was a lot of paperwork. "I'm not signing anything."

"You will, Carson, believe me. Hey, we will get paid for this, right?"

Rodney smiled. "You will be fully compensated."

"Better be," Evan muttered, glancing at his watch. "I can't afford to shut down the gallery all day."

"And I can't be away from the bar for too long," Carson agreed.

"I'm sure you will find the sacrifice worth your while," Rodney stated. Amused at their grumbling, their concerns in light of what they were about to see. Things that very few people had seen, even knew existed. Space aliens and spaceships and technology that was light years ahead of them. He turned round in his seat, glancing at the rearview mirror to see John's red car following them. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

"That's what you said half an hour ago," Evan grumbled.

"This place is still in Nevada, isn't it?" Carson asked.

Elizabeth smirked. "If you two don't start pouting I will stop this van and we will walk from here!"

"How far is this place?" John muttered. It felt like he had been driving for hours and hours and his fingers were cramping on the wheel, his shoulders cramping as he was locked in the same position. The heat of the desert was bearing down on him. Even with the windows open the hot air blew harshly, lacerating him with tiny bits of sand and dirt, washing him in wave after wave of heat. He licked his lips, wishing he had a drink, even water would do.

He chanced a look at Moira. She was staring out the window, expression unreadable. Wisps of her hair not confined by the ponytail flying along her face. She was sipping water out of a plastic bottle and John scowled. He resumed watching the road, watching the black van in front of them. "You're pissed."

"No. I don't want to give you a boner, detective," she said. Stared at the saguaro cactus as they sped by the tall plants. Arms outstretched like spiny scarecrows of the desert.

He smiled. "In that case can I have a drink of that water?" He glanced at her but she was ignoring him. "I see. Well, I wouldn't mind if you did give me a boner, doctor. You being a paleontologist and all." He waited, but she wouldn't take the bait. He sighed. "I'm just saying you're used to handling boners."

"Bones," she replied, "and gee, Sheppard, like I haven't heard that one before?"

"O'Meara, I don't understand you. You should be in a great mood. We're going to see the space alien and I got you off. At least, let's see, at least three times so far and the day is young."

"Fuck you," she muttered. His good mood only fueling her bad one.

"Now? I'll pull over right here, baby."

"Shut up, John! Here!" She shoved the water bottle at him.

He smiled, took it. "Thanks, baby. Whatever. Whenever." He drank generously, emptying the bottle and threw it into the back seat. Licked his lips and met her gaze as she was staring at him. At the motion of his tongue over his lips. At the trickles of sweat sliding along one sexy sideburn and down his neck into the collar of his white shirt. "Now, baby?"

"Stop calling me that!" she fumed, looking away from him.

"Crap. Too late now and we were just beginning to argue."

"Too late? Too late for what?"

"Sex, obviously, baby. I can just imagine how tight those sexy panties are now, huh?"

"Imagine away, sweetie, because you're not getting into them."

"Not yet. Besides, we're here."

"We're…oh."

The building was large, beige. Blending into the landscape, just another nondescript bland government building with warning signs posted and a barbed wire fence surrounding it. The vehicles passed a checkpoint manned by a burly guard and parked side by side amid other cars and vans.

John stepped out of the car, glancing round, shades protecting his eyes as the sunlight was brutal. He turned, touched Moira's arm she came round to stand near him. "Moira, you may need to sweet talk your friends into signing. Okay? Although seeing all this should convince them."

"They can decide for themselves, John."

He smiled. "Fuck you are stubborn. You are hot when you are stubborn."

"Shut up and come on!" She moved towards the three men. John followed, walked with her. All entered the building. A blast of cold air assaulted them.

Rodney turned to them, waving off security. "Before we proceed any further you will all need to sign that agreement. There's no getting round it."

"Not until I see the space alien," Carson stated.

"Not until you sign the agreement," Rodney countered.

"Look," John said, stepping forward, "just sign the damn thing, will ya? It's all true. We can't proceed until you do, until we all do. You don't trust me, I get that, but you trust Moira, right? And Lorne saw a spaceship firsthand. We're all going to sign these damn confidentiality agreements so we can get all the intel we need to track down that Wraith before it kills again! Got it? Let's go! Rodney, where are the forms?"

Rodney smiled. "This way." They resumed walking again, down a hallway. "Quite the motivational speech, Sheppard."

"I hate wasting time, McKay. Once all that shit is signed my people need every access to all you've got. I mean everything. If they are to be effective they need to know all of it."

"Already done. I have a Wraith 101 folder for each one, plus a paper on the space/time rift, and interstellar travel through alternate realities, plus an ATA primer because each one of you has the gene. Yes," he confirmed to the surprise on John's face, "we already know that. And if you're lucky I won't throw in a pop quiz afterwards."

"Good. I hate those too."

Evan was shaking his head as the three friends followed the two men. "Look at him. Acting like our leader now?"

"He is…in effect," Moira stated. "If even half of this stuff is true just think of the possibilities."

"Aye, if," Carson argued. "I'm taking an awful risk here, Moira."

"We all are," she agreed. "But like I said, if even half of this is true—"

"We can't pass up the scientific discovery blah blah blah," Carson finished for her. But he smiled. "All right, love, we'll just see."

"About time you agreed," Evan said. "Hell, they had me at the spaceship," he said with a smile. But grumpily added, "I don't like the fact Sheppard is team leader. What I like even less is that you're fucking him."

John stopped. Turned. Green eyes like ice as he looked at Evan. He pointed at Moira who appeared startled. Embarrassed. "As long as she likes it that's all that matters. Got it?"

"Yes," Evan said after a terse moment.

Moira stepped between them. "Now that that's sorted can we go see the space alien?"


	7. Chapter 7

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way7

John caught Moira's arm, halting her as the rest of the men entered a room. "Is this gonna be a problem?" he asked quietly.

She met his gaze. "No. It's fine. Besides, what do you care?"

"I—" But she pulled free of him and entered the room. John sighed. Followed on her heels and sat next to her.

Richard Woolsey stood, eying each person with a look of bemusement and uncertainty on his face. He adjusted his glasses. Adjusted his tie. "This is the…the team?" At Rodney's nod Richard set before each person a thick pile of papers. "As you can see this is a pretty standard, routine non-disclosure form. Any violations will result in a gag order, plus serious repercussions in court. Any violation will result in automatic termination and a lawsuit. Make sure you read through it as it covers all aspects and every aspect of this facility, the materials within, the personnel, all items and facts relevant to it including the location of said facility and resources, all—"

"We go it! Loose lips sink ships!" John interjected. He had already scrawled his signature along the bottom page, looked at Moira. She was paging through the document, through the legal verbiage with an increasingly irritated expression. A slight nudge from his foot to hers made her pick up the pen. Sign.

Evan signed, flipping through the pages as well but not really reading them. Carson was perusing each page. Reading through the verbiage, his blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, in caution. He suddenly looked up to see everyone staring. "What?" he asked. "The man said to be thorough."

"Carson," Moira reprimanded in a tone that John found abruptly alluring.

"Fine." Carson sighed. Signed with a flourish. "If I come to regret this I will lay it all at your doorstep, Moira."

"You won't regret it," Evan assured. "I want to see the other alien ships as well."

"Thank you." Richard collected the documents, checking each one for a legal signature and nodded to himself.

Rodney replaced them with a folder. "This is a dossier on the Wraith, alien tech, space travel, everything we deal with here. Things you'll be dealing with now, on a case to case basis. Read through it as soon as possible, please. That will save me having to repeat myself, and I hate having to answer the same questions twice. Now let's go see the alien prisoner. And remember that everything you see here is classified."

The room was silent. Cold. The blue light similar to the last cell, the last room where the captive Wraith had been incarcerated. John breathed in the cold, sterile air. Saw his own reflection in the Plexiglas walls, saw the reflection of his team. Of Moira who was standing beside him. Staring at the one occupant of the cell.

Todd was prone on his back, on the floor. Hands folded at his waist. Apparently in a deep sleep. A slumber so deep the rise and fall of his chest was barely perceptible. A bank of monitors across the room beeped softly, all lines showing only the minimum of heart rate, of lung capacity, of brain activity. Almost reading as a flat line but not quite. Once in a while a line would jump, indicating sporadic movement, motion. Life-sustaining initiatives from the nervous system, from the brain. All the while the Wraith appearing at peace. Totally silent. Totally still. As still as the grave.

"I don't believe it." Carson's voice was quiet.

"It's remarkable," Moira agreed.

"Huh. I thought it'd be more alien-looking," Evan commented. All glanced at him. "What?" He shrugged.

"This is a Wraith," Rodney stated. Hands clasped behind his back as if about to give a lecture to a class. "A genetic combination of human and what we call an Iratus bug. An insect not found in this galaxy but from the Pegasus galaxy, where these creatures originate. An alien life form. Highly intelligent. Highly dangerous. They feed on humans. We're like cattle to them. They drain a body of its life force, its energy, as it were. They can read your thoughts and make you see things that aren't really there. They are much more technologically advanced. Their society is a simple one, centered round a queen and a Hive ship. Males are either scientists or pilots, or Drones. Rather like a beehive, in many respects. They can communicate telepathically as well as vocally. They don't have names. No one knows why they don't. We call this one Todd. Well, your other self named him that, John. In the other reality."

"Guess we don't need to read this folder now," Evan quipped.

The group sat round a table. The tour had finished. After seeing Todd they had been taken round the facility. Rodney acting like a tour guide, showing them the situation room where computers and scanners and all sorts of equipment not of this Earth were being monitored by harried-looking technicians. Into a large underground bay where a few alien ships were parked, clearly damaged and being examined by scientists. To the medical bay where machines recorded every aspect of the Wraith and their biology, physiology. Their strengths and their weaknesses. To a room which was linked to every satellite around the planet and was warm from all of the computer power humming and monitoring everything in space.

Finally they were shown to yet another room. Sat round a table, expressions of wonder and awe and curiosity on every face. Every face but John's as he had seen it all in the earlier facility. He did enjoy the sense of vindication, however, and could not keep the I-told-you-so look off his handsome face.

He cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention back to him. "There's only one thing left to do now. We need to wake up Sleeping Beauty."

"Absolutely not." Everyone turned in their chair as Richard joined them. He was shaking his head. "Waking Todd from hibernation would kill him. I have expert advice on this."

"That's not what I heard," John said, glancing at Rodney. The scientist appeared uncomfortable, and John wondered if he had shared his misgivings with Richard. "Besides, my own expert says it can be done. No, says that he will awaken on his own given the right enticement to do so."

Richard frowned. "An expert? A paleontologist?"

"Yes, also a biologist," John agreed. "Doctor O'Meara and I have been over this and she says it can be done without any harm to the Wraith. This isn't a simple animal in hibernation but a half-human creature which can effectively control his own metabolism and his circadian cycles. So we wake it up. With bait. Food."

"And then?" Rodney asked, before Richard could object.

John met his gaze. "We make it talk. We find out if it has been communicating with that other one, the crazy one. If it is leading it here or elsewhere. We find out its objective and where it's heading. Then we force it lure it to a specific location so we can catch the bastard and kill it. We're all clear on this point, right?"

"That we are going to kill it? No." Richard's voice was firm.

Everyone was staring at him. Then at John as he spoke. Watching the confrontation with scrutiny and silence. Folders set aside on the table, as yet unread. Opinions forming but kept in silence until this current issue was resolved. A hundred questions swarmed but were trapped in the silence as well.

"Yes. We are. Before it kills again. McKay?" John asked, expecting support, verification, anything, but the man was silent, waiting to see how things were going to unfold. It felt like a test of some sort, and John hated tests. Recalled something that Rodney had once told him. About meeting another version of himself, another version of John Sheppard who was heroic, who was a leader, who had saved the world many times over. John knew he was not that man, would never be that man. But he could try to emulate him for this one case, this one moment.

"No, you defer to me on this one, Sheppard. We will kill it if there is no other option. Otherwise we need to capture it. Alive."


	8. Chapter 8

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way8

John stood. Hands splayed on the table. Expression serious, handsome face drawn in severe lines. His green eyes were hard, so hard, so intent that Moira felt a whisper of desire along her body. Seeing that intensity, that laser focus. "My job is to keep the people of this city safe. Secure. My job is to hunt down any threat to them and to eliminate it, by any means possible but by the book. This case broke all of those rules, those guidelines. So no. We're not taking this thing alive. We're taking it down."

Richard's gaze narrowed. It was as if they were the only two in the room. The silence was absolute. The tension on the cold air palpable. A test of leadership, authority, and both men knew it. Everyone in the room knew it and waited, not interfering. "Then we don't require your services, Mr. Sheppard. Consider these contracts rescinded and your team disbanded."

"Whoa, whoa wait a second there!" Rodney protested, raising a hand. A disgruntled murmur went round the room. "John will do everything in his power to catch the Wraith but he has to take into account the lives of the civilians first."

"I won't. Do everything to save it but I will do everything in my power to kill it," John vowed, his gaze locked with Richard. He felt Moira's gentle touch on his hand, ignored it. Ignored the subtle reprimand, although he was hoping she would use that tone of voice on him.

"John, please. We need it alive, if at all possible," Rodney reasoned, trying to find a bridge between the two extremes, a compromise between the two men. "But if lives are in danger it will be put down."

"No. You want it that way, then we quit. But I promise you I will kill this thing when I find it, make no mistake. And I bet I find it before you do. Let's go."

"John, wait! Richard, we need him. We need these people whether you like it or not, and if this Wraith has to be killed then at least we'll have the corpse for further study. We have Todd. I don't think we need another live one, do you? The risk is too great."

"I think we can all agree that this creature needs to be stopped, no matter how—" Moira began but Richard interrupted.

"I don't see how you could contribute anything to our work here, and frankly we don't need your flawed theories or uncertain suppositions."

"She knows more about these things than you do so lay off!" John resisted the urge to strike the other man. "We're done here." He eyed the other men. "I'm sorry I wasted your time. If we're not needed here we won't waste time, but I still need your help to find this thing and to stop it before it kills again."

"John, you all belong here. Richard, stop being an ass over the little things and look at the big picture. We can work with John and his team and have our own team bring the Wraith down, all right? The sooner the better. But we can't awaken Todd. We just can't take the risk, I'm afraid."

"That's it. You're afraid. You're all afraid, aren't you?" John eyed the two men. Glanced at Moira who was watching him. Silent. Supportive. Her hand on his. "There's nothing left to say." He stalked out of the room.

Silenced for a moment. Then voices were raised, all at once. Until Moira stood. "Wait! We have to work together to stop this thing, don't we? Then get your shit together! I'll go get John!" She exited the room as the men stared after her.

John was standing in the hallway, sipping water from a paper cup. He frowned, tossed the cup into the trashcan. Trying to bring his anger under control, his impatience. He had enough trouble dealing with bureaucrats at his other job. He didn't need the same kind of nonsense here. He looked over as Moira approached. "Now you know why I prefer to work alone," he quipped.

She smiled. "It will get better, John. Once the pecking order is established."

"The what?"

"The pecking order. The rank of the males in any group. The Alpha has to be established, then the rest will fall into place. Right now you are trying to assert your dominance in a territory that was formerly run by Woolsey, but it's really McKay who is holding all the cards. And now you do, or rather you are asserting that you do in this situation and you challenging the ranking authority of the group."

He stared at her. "You make us sound like a pack of wolves."

"The analogy applies, in this case. Men. We need to put aside all of this male posturing and work together to catch this thing. You said so yourself."

"Posturing? Moira, I need complete cooperation, not roadblocks from weak-minded bureaucrats!"

"I know, but you won't get that by yelling, now will you? Or by going off by yourself like some solitary man. You're the team leader, John. So lead it. Work with McKay and yes, even Woolsey. You're getting hung up over the details instead of focusing on the big picture."

He considered. Nodded. "Okay, I guess. So you're telling me to man up?"

"Yes. Just don't go all Alpha again, okay? After this we can whip 'em all out and see who has the biggest, all right?"

John smiled. "You know who'd win that one, baby."

She stepped closer. "Yes. Yes, I do know." She became serious. "McKay, obviously. Now get that—"

"Whoa, what? Are you…oh, very funny, Moira!" he scolded as she laughed at his reaction. His indignation. He scowled, but smiled at her amusement.

"I'm not kidding, John. Did you see when he turned how the…" She broke into laughter again as his gaze narrowed in warning. "Sorry, sweetie. Don't be so sensitive. Now move that fine ass of yours and get what you need to solve this case, detective." She kissed his cheek, stepped away and back into the room.

John chuckled. Shook his head and followed after her. At his return voices quieted, became still. He moved next to Moira, but didn't take his seat. Turning as if to deliberately place his crotch at her eye level. His lips quirked seeing her reaction, but he became serious. "We need to awaken Todd. He's our best lead, our only lead to the other one. And we need to do it now, before that thing kills again or achieves its objective. Doctor O'Meara has assured me that it won't harm Todd. And we all know you've fed him before. This time I just need you to dangle the prey in front of him, and I'll do the rest. We can waste time quibbling or we can catch this damn thing. So?"

Rodney nodded. "As long as we allow Todd to awaken on his own there is less of a risk of any permanent damage. We'll see what happens."

"And how do you feed him, exactly, given that his dish of choice is humans?" Carson asked.

"Volunteers." All eyes swung to Richard. "A human can survive a brief period of feeding, given a three-hour window between feedings. As long as Todd doesn't take too much the volunteer fully recovers. In, in most cases." A darkness came and went.

"It took some trial and error to discover that." Rodney's words hung in the air.

"It won't get that far. Let's do this," John said, voice grim.

"You're not expecting one of us to volunteer, are you?" Evan asked.

"No. We have our own volunteers. Scientists who want to study the experience firsthand, closely monitored, of course."

"Of course." John grimaced, recalling his own harrowing experience. Being brought back from the brink of death, then almost killed, then back again. He tensed, but felt Moira's gentle touch on his arm. As if she sensed his distress. He swallowed. "I want my team to witness this. To see exactly what they are facing."

"Fine. I have no problem with that." Richard eyed them. "I can assure you that every precaution is taken to ensure the survival of the volunteer, and their continued health."

"But their longevity is compromised, isn't it?" Carson asked.

"Yes," Richard had to admit under the doctor's scrutiny. "I'm afraid it is, but only by a few years. A decade at the most. It's the price to pay for the scientific discovery."

"That's a high price to keep some space alien alive," Evan muttered in distaste.

"We're paying a higher one now while that crazy one is on the loose. Let's get this over with," Rodney stated. Exchanging a look with John. A look that conveyed both admiration and agreement. A look that solidified things between them.


	9. Chapter 9

Vegas in Red: Guess Things Happen That Way9

Darkness encompassed the room. Except for the blue light illuminating the cell and its sole occupant. Unmoving, so still the creature appeared to be made of wax. Inanimate. John drew his gun, checking the clip. Met Moira's worried gaze and nodded at her, reassuring.

"You won't need that," Richard said, guiding in a lanky man with a shock of blond hair and an almost eager expression.

"For this interrogation I will. Don't worry, I won't harm your pet."

Rodney moved to the bank of monitors. "I don't have to tell you how quick these things can move, John. Be careful."

"He's got backup, just in case." Elizabeth entered the room, hefting an alien-looking weapon that was sturdy and long. "Stunner," she explained to the staring group. She took up a position opposite the cell. Winked at John. "Looks like I got your back again, honey."

John nodded. "Good to know." But he stepped to Moira, drew her away from the rest of the men. "This won't be pretty, Moira. Are you sure you want to see this?"

"Yes. I'll be fine, John. Will you?"

"Yeah."

She touched his chest a moment, a tender concern filling her brown eyes. Then she drew away from him, moving to stand next to Carson and Evan.

John stepped to the cell. Gestured. Rodney nodded, unlocked it with his handprint and a key code. The door slid open silently. The blue lights flared, then became steady once more. The volunteer entered the cell. Moved to kneel next to Todd.

"I'm here. To be of service. You must need to feed after your long—" The words were barely out of his mouth when Todd sprang to life. In a motion so swift it looked as if one minute he was prone on the ground, the next he was upright and across the cell with the volunteer, pressing his palm to the man's naked chest.

Except John sprinted into the cell and forcibly hauled Todd off the man. Held the gun to the Wraith's temple, clicking off the safety. "Not yet, Todd. Not yet. First you are going to answer a few questions before lunch."

The volunteer was gasping. Trickles of blood on his chest but otherwise he was unharmed. Gaze almost rapturous as he stared at the Wraith.

Todd sneered. Felt the press of the muzzle to his temple. Cold, primitive steel that would be quite effective at this range, at this point of contact. "John Sheppard," he said, his voice slithering over the name like a lover's caress.

John felt a chill down his spine but his voice was steel. His grip on Todd's arm tight. His grip on the gun even tighter. Finger dancing along the trigger. "I know you're talking to that one out there. Where it is heading?"

"Lights in the sky. So pretty, so pretty. Clouds open and death rains down."

"Can the poetry! We both know it's all an act! You're not insane like that other one is! Answer my question or you won't get what you want. I will put a bullet in your head."

Todd's slitted eyes moved to see the man next to him. Could make out John's earnest expression in his peripheral vision. "Your pathetic weapons won't harm me for long."

"No? I think even a primitive bullet to the brain would stop you. And I can pull this trigger before anyone can stop me. So…where?" He pressed the gun harder for emphasis.

Todd eyed the volunteer waiting. The man was half fearful, half anxious. Wanting, yet worried. Humans were so easy to manipulate. Not all, however, as the one holding the gun was not about to be swayed or fooled. Todd relished the challenge. "Here."

"He's coming to you. But where's he going first?" John allowed himself a smile seeing the flash of surprise on Todd's face.

"I underestimated you, John Sheppard."

"You're not the first. So, where? Or I will put a bullet into your brain right now."

"They will not allow that."

"They won't be able to stop me in time. So? Where?" he barked.

Todd smiled. "Power. A place of power to finish what others started. To call the rest."

John considered. Eyed the volunteer. "Get out."

"What? He is my meal."

"Like hell. Get out!" John ordered, and the volunteer stumbled towards the open doorway.

"What are you doing?" Richard demanded, afraid that John was going off the rails and would do what he damn well pleased.

"What the fuck are you hiding, Todd?" John snarled. Suddenly the stakes had risen higher. Suddenly all that nonsense poetry might actually have a hidden meaning to taunt, to tease.

Todd turned slowly to face him. The gun still at his temple. He smiled. A creepy smile revealing his many, many sharp teeth. His slitted, alien eyes meeting John's cold, cold gaze. "John Sheppard…you may stop this one, but you are already too late. Your life is mine. All of your lives are mine."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." John's finger slid along the trigger.

"John, no! You can't!" Rodney shouted.

"Elizabeth, stun him!" Richard ordered.

The motion was fast, so fast it was a blur. Todd wrenching his arm free, whirling and grabbing John, slamming him into the wall as the gun flew from his hand. The bullet flying harmlessly across the air, pinging on the wall and falling to the floor. Todd's hand closing around John's throat, lifting him bodily off the floor until his feet dangled in the air. Until he was struggling for air, prying at the Wraith's iron grip on his throat. Todd lowered him slightly, his leer inches from John's face.

"Not yet," Todd whispered, then fell as a stun blast hit him. Made him writhe on the ground as the blue energy enveloped him again. Again to finally knock him unconscious.

"John!" Moira was running towards the cell. Towards John who had slumped to the floor in a seated position, coughing and rubbing his throat. "John, are you all right?" She fell onto her knees in front of him. Rodney was on her heels, pausing only to grab the gun from the floor.

John met her gaze, coughed. "Yeah. I…" He coughed again. Took the gun Rodney offered. The two men shared a look, an understanding quick as lightning. He coughed again. Moira helped him to his feet and around the sprawled body of the Wraith. John was tempted to give it a kick but he refrained. They stepped out of the cell and Rodney swiftly locked it. "Evan," John said, voice hoarse, "that trajectory you plotted. Does it by any chance lead to a power grid of any kind on the outskirts of Vegas?"

"Yes…it, hang on!" Evan took the proffered PDA from Rodney. "Yes! This old part of the city, a warehouse district before the residential areas…there's an abandoned power station there but it's been shut down for decades."

"That's where he's heading," John rasped. Moira's grasp still on his arm.

"But why? Communication." Rodney snapped his fingers. "That's what this has been about all along! They are trying to communicate with the Hive ship, but it's not there anymore. And the rift is closed."

"Are you sure about that?" Carson asked, stepping to shove aside John's hand at his throat. He examined the bruising. "You'll live. Just don't enter any singing contests."

"Not a problem, doc. I can't sing anyway. Rodney?"

"What? Oh yes, I 'm sure! The rift is closed! There's no Hive ship in orbit in our galaxy, of that I am damn sure!"

"Since we know his final destination we can lay a trap," Evan realized.

"And end this thing once and for all," Carson stated.

John was about to speak when his phone buzzed. He slid it out of his pocket. "Yeah. Shit. On my way." He scowled, eyed the group. "We're too late. Perp is on the scene. Let's go!"


End file.
